Then There Was Nothing
by Anybodys
Summary: "He was lost in the sea of faces, the sea of pain, the only redemption being the only person he knew, yet he couldn't find her."   Han has to deal with Leia's death.


**~A/N: I'm so sorry if this is confusing. See, I started writing this back in July, so I was really confused about what happened to my last Leia death scene thingy until I was looking through my fan fiction folder and found it. Then it sort of turned into "write whatever pops in your head" thing.**

**Anyhoo, I present "Then There Was Nothing".~**

* * *

><p>The memories still seemed fresh in their minds, as if only an hour ago they had relived every moment of their lives. As if an hour ago she was okay, laughing with her family as they took a stroll around a nature reserve. Her eyes were sparkling as she listened to his joke, and then they were gone.<p>

He was confused, not sure how she vanished so quickly until his daughter screamed. His heart stopped as his eyes met a pool of blood quickly gathering around her neck before scooping her up in his arms and yelling at his children to stay covered. Her breathing was shallow as his eyes searched her neck to find a little dart pricking out of it.

Perhaps that was the clearest memory of them all, and not because it was so recent. A tear fell onto the soft hand he was holding, the color of her skin turning a sickly pallid color. She wouldn't open her eyes when asked when in the medical ward, and when she did in the very rare occasions, they were glassy and incomprehensive, making him cringe when he saw them. Many useless phrases asking her to stay alive were whispered, confusion over how a dart that small could do such damage continued, the nightmares that woke up every night just as painful as the one before.

Every time he woke up, he would roll over and expect to see her there, to see her beautiful face in a deep sleep, to see her body curled up under the blankets, but all there was was nothingness, just like he felt inside. There was no emotions, no feelings, no communications with the rest of the galaxy. All there was was him, and the rest of the place was just a mere dream, the people saying incoherent sentences just mirages. Nobody looked familiar to him. Who was this man with the laser sword that kept telling him that he was there for him? Who were this little girl and these little boys that would come to his arms, crying and asking for mommy back? Who was this Wookie that kept asking him if he was okay, who kept catering to him? Who were they?

He was lost in the sea of faces, the sea of pain, the only redemption being the only person he knew, yet he couldn't find her. Every time he would reach his arms out for her, she wasn't there. Every time he would open his drawers, there would be soft, delicate fabrics that didn't belong to anybody. Occasionally he would take those fabrics out and stare at them, wondering why they were laying in his drawer. Did they belong to the woman haunting him?

Carefully, he would bring them up to his face and close his eyes as he felt their texture. So smooth and cold. That's all there was. No life, no warmth, no anything. It was just another piece of cloth.

Then he would feel something wet rolling down his face. It would land on the cloth, warming it for a fraction of a second, before it would disappear. And another. And another. Who was sobbing? Was it himself?

Then the _pain_. The _pain _that would come when he would think of her, the _pain _that stabbed him in the chest when he remembered a beautiful face that belonged to a woman that he used to call his wife.

_Leia._

The name tore at him, and he would fall to the ground in agony, sobbing, weeping with the dress bundled up against the face, muffling his cries of desperation. Come back, come back. The words rang through his head. Come back, I love you, I miss you, why did you leave me here?

He couldn't breathe as his head spun. _Leia. Leia. Leia_. Her smile, her eyes, her soft hair—all of those come back to him. All the angry words, all the kisses.

_The memories_.

Leia, why'd you leave me here? Every syllable seemed to beat him forcefully, as if punishing him for having ever loved her. The world rotated around him—this wasn't real, the people weren't real, the words, the voices, the faces—_nothing was real_.

Was _Leia _real?

He was drowning, drowning in all his memories, drowning in all his lost love. He knew nothing. He felt nothing. There was nothing.

Besides Leia.

But she was gone.

And if you were to enter the Solo household on any day, you would see a man in the bedroom, lying on the floor with a dress in his arms, sobbing, sobbing for his love that once was.


End file.
